ur.
This, however, did not prevent the mother, in one of her crazy moods,
taking a step calculated to induce some impostor to come forward and
claim to be the rightful heir--which was the insertion of an
advertisement in the _Times_, offering a reward for the discovery of
her eldest son, and giving a number of particulars with regard to his
birth, parentage, age, date and place of shipwreck, name of vessel,
and other matters. She also incorporated in her advertisement the
stories of the tramping sailors about his having been picked up and
carried to Melbourne; and this mischievous advertisement was published
in various languages, and doubtless copied in the South American and
Australian newspapers. This is the first step we find towards the
formation of the imposture.

Time rolled on, and no Roger, true or false, made his appearance. One
day the Dowager happened to see in a newspaper a mention of the fact
that there was in Sydney a man named Cubitt, who kept what he called a
"Missing Friends' Office." To Cubitt accordingly she wrote a long
rambling letter, in which, among other tokens of her state of mind,
she gave a grossly incorrect account of her son's appearance, and even
of his age; but Cubitt was to insert her long advertisement in the
Australian papers, and he was promised a handsome reward. Cubitt, in
reply, amused the poor lady with vague reports of her son being found
in the capacity of a private soldier in New Zealand; and as there was
war there at that time the poor lady wrote back in an agony of terror
to entreat that he might be bought out of the regiment. Mr. Cubitt soon
perceived the singular person he had to deal with; and his letters
from that time were largely occupied with requests for money for
services which had no existence out of the letters. At last came more
definite information. A Mr. Gibbes, an attorney at the little town of
Wagga-Wagga, two hundred miles inland from Sydney, had, he said, found
the real Roger living "in a humble station of life," and under an
assumed name. Again money was wanted. Then Gibbes, apparently
determined to steal a march on Cubitt, wrote directly to the credulous
lady, and there was much correspondence between them. At first there
were some little difficulties. The man who, after a certain amount of
coyness, had pleaded guilty to being the long-lost heir, still held
aloof in a strange way, concealed his present name and occupation, and
instead of going home at once